


Falling (Standing On The Edge)

by thefooliam



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 09:37:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5962582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefooliam/pseuds/thefooliam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Morris College is not what Santana was expecting. </p><p>College!AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling (Standing On The Edge)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Novaforever who asked for Brittana with added Aphasia. Title comes from Haim’s “Falling”

As they drive through the huge gates that mark the entrance to Morris College, Santana Lopez tries to remember all the things she knows about the place that is to be her home for the next four years.

 

What she knows is that Morris College is one of the highest ranked women’s liberal arts colleges in the country.

 

The campus is set in three hundred and seventy-four acres of lush, green upstate New York forest. It has over eighty buildings, one hundred and twenty six academic staff, seventeen hundred and forty-four full time students and thirty-seven academic departments.

 

It’s been hidden away here for almost eighty years and its’ alumni boasts some of the most world-renowned politicians, scientists and CEOs despite the fact that it’s one of the smallest women’s colleges in the country. It has a higher graduate success rate than any of the other colleges Santana looked at and she knows that the crème de la crème of lady talent starts here.

 

It’s also so far north that they might as well be in Canada but that’s okay because ninety percent of all students are able to pay off their college debts within five years of leaving.

 

And as Santana and her mother drive past the tenth rainbow flag in five minutes, one more thing becomes clear:

 

It’s also full of lesbians.

 

//

 

(Morris College is not what Santana was expecting.)

 

//

 

Her mother does all the talking at the orientation desk. A campus policewoman takes her picture and makes her student ID while a girl in a purple Morris College shirt tells her everything she needs to know.

 

Santana doesn’t really listen. She’s too busy watching the waves of young women that flood in after her and wondering if they can tell.

 

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” her mother whispers. Santana jumps and nods, quickly making it clear that she isn’t.

 

Her mother takes her hand and Santana inwardly groans because she didn’t want to be that girl. She didn’t want to be the pussy whose mom ends up staying until the sun goes down, helping her unpack before she ends up sobbing and clinging to the hood of her car. She thought it would be easier—she thought that she was grown up enough to do this on her own—but as she squeezes her mom’s hand, she can’t help but feel a little desperate.

 

Her mom reads the map and finds her room and she just follows behind her. Her eyes feel wide and sore as she takes in her surroundings and the warm sunlight that streams through the trees. She’s entering a dusty old building that reminds her of Hogwarts before she knows it, stepping into an out-of-place elevator and along a hallway until she reaches room 402 of West Adler Court.

 

“You’re the first one,” her mom whispers before leaving her sitting atop the lumpy plastic mattress that will be her bed. She’s still staring around the room when her mom returns with her belongings.

 

Familiar hands press into her hair and Santana sighs before looking at her mother.

 

“I think you’re going to be happy here,” her mother whispers and after the year they’ve had, it’s better than nothing.

 

//

 

Her mother is putting her empty suitcase in her closet when the door opens and a black girl walks in without a word.

 

She doesn’t say anything and just starts unpacking everything from a large, khaki-colored duffle that she lugs behind her. Santana stares and her mother eyes her curiously. She stands up soon after and grabs her purse before urging Santana outside.

 

“I better get going, sweetheart,” she whispers and Santana’s clinging to her before she can stop herself. Her mother coos and pets her hair and Santana feels like a five year old, curling up small as her mother pulls away and reaches into her purse to pull out an envelope. “Here’s some money, just in case—” Santana begins to protest but her mother shoves the envelope back in her hands. “No, no. It’s fine. I’ve saved your whole life for this. I want you to be comfortable.”

 

Santana sighs and feels the telltale burn in the back of her eyes. “Mom…” she sighs hopelessly but her mother waves her off.

 

“Call me when you can, okay?” Her mother presses a kiss to her cheek, brief and detached, before pulling her into a tight, one armed hug. “Or we can try that facechat thing.”

 

“Facetime,” Santana corrects listlessly as her mother nods and refuses to look at her.

 

When she turns, Santana sees the softest silver sheen of tears that covers her cheeks.

 

“I’ll see you soon,” she whispers.

 

She’s gone before Santana can even reply.

 

//

 

She returns to her new room quietly and hovers in the doorway, watching her roommate determinedly unpack her bags. It’s not until she starts to hide things under her mattress that she even shows an interest in Santana and turns around to glare at her.

 

“What?” she spits and Santana’s sure that it would scare any other person, except she grew up in Lima Heights. She once saw an old lady mugged for a lawn gnome.

 

She presses a finger to her chest. “I’m Santana.”

 

The girl looks at her like she’s the dumbest idiot she’s ever seen. “So?!” the girl says shaking her head. “What do I care?”

 

Santana lets her brow furrow and rolls her eyes.

 

“Whatever,” she sighs. “Be a bitch.”

 

Her back is against their bedroom door within seconds.

 

“What’d you call me?” the girl says and Santana barely glances at the fist that’s poised to punch her in the face.

 

She scoffs instead and pries away the other hand that’s clenched in the front of her overalls. “I called you a bitch,” she says with a sure nod. “Because that’s what you’re being. A bitch. A bitch who’s forgetting that we’re in college—not _prison_ —and throwing your weight around is a surefire way to get yourself expelled.”

 

The girl narrows her eyes.

 

“And considering that you just hid about five ounces of _weed_ under your bed, I don’t think you want that to happen.”

 

The girl’s face drops and Santana smiles. Barely a minute later, the girl backs off and grins slowly before eying her up and down.

 

“Santana, huh?” she asks.

 

Santana juts her chin out in the affirmative before folding her arms.

 

“Name’s Aphasia,” the girl finally says. “Aphasia Addams.”

 

//

 

There are three other freshmen on their floor.

 

They come and introduce themselves after lunch and Aphasia looks at them with so much disdain and disappointment that Santana almost laughs.

 

There’s an Asian chick that looks too young to be here called Dottie and a shy Brunette called Marley. They’re led by this crazy blonde chick called Kitty, who only wants to talk about some girl called Quinn, who apparently lives on this floor. She’s absolutely scandalized that neither Santana nor Aphasia know who she’s talking about.

 

Santana and Aphasia go to the dining hall before everyone else and come back when they’ve left. They explore the fourth floor of West Adler while it’s empty and Aphasia somehow manages to pick open the lock on the door out to the balcony.

 

When the other three girls get back, they stay as quiet as they can and carry on smoking the cigarettes Santana brought with her.

 

They go to bed way after midnight but Santana can’t sleep.

 

She lays awake and doesn’t drift off until she plucks up the courage to send her mom a text goodnight.

 

//

 

The other girls of West Adler return five days later with a wave of noise that shocks Santana instantly. She steps out of her room thinking it’s Kitty and her new friends again but stops when she sees a crowd of other girls walk straight past her and out onto the balcony.

 

A girl with blue hair wanders in beside a large girl with old, round glasses. She has a bag over her shoulder and she grins at Santana as she passes her.

 

“Fresh meat,” she says suggestively. Santana’s stomach drops and her eyes widen.

 

The girl laughs and Santana feels sick.

 

//

 

She meets them all later that evening when a note is pushed under their door telling them to be ready for dinner at six.

 

She discovers that the blue-haired girl is Dani and the large girl is Lauren and that they’re the only seniors on their floor. Tina, a sophomore, introduces everyone else and has to shout to be heard over Rachel and Mercedes, the other two sophomores who are just as loud and argumentative as each other. She moves onto the juniors, introducing Sugar first as she talks to someone on the phone before moving onto the mysterious Quinn. She has the worst pink dye job ever and is rolling her eyes at Kitty and—honestly—Santana doesn’t know whether to love her or hate her.

 

But then Quinn is escaping Kitty’s clutches and wrapping her arm low around Tina’s waist, asking her where Harmony is while her fingers toy under the edge of her shirt.

 

All the words she has die on her tongue.

 

//

 

Out of the thirteen girls that live in West Adler, only two of them actually identify as heterosexual.

 

Within twelve hours, it becomes clear that Tina and Quinn are sleeping together and that Santana needs to buy earplugs if they’re going to be sharing a wall for the next year. Kitty appears to be obsessed with becoming the next Quinn so she’s dating Dottie but Dottie keeps flirting with Marley who keeps giving nervous, lusty eyes to Kitty. Rachel and Sugar keep gossiping about how they’re sure that Harmony is sleeping with a girl from Carmel Court who they both slept with last year. They shut up abruptly every time Dani comes in the room and whisper about how they hope she doesn’t find out because they don’t want a repeat of last year.

 

It makes Santana’s head spin and she’s almost glad to hear that Mercedes has a boyfriend and that Lauren is sleeping with the janitor.

 

“Is everyone here queer?” she asks Aphasia when Harmony and Dani start hollering at each other in the hallway and Tina and Quinn start having sex again.

 

Aphasia sucks her teeth and scoffs at her. “It’s a fuckin’ women’s’ college,” she mumbles as she reads her economics book. “What the fuck do you think?”

 

Santana sits up and looks at her curiously.

 

“Are _you_?”

 

Aphasia doesn’t even look at her.

 

“It’s none of yo’ damn business,” she scoffs. “I’ll fuck who I wanna fuck.”

 

//

 

Her first day of classes goes better than she expected. It’s mostly just admin stuff but she meets Dean Pierce—who is just as awesome and ridiculously thought-provoking as everyone made her out to be—and the rest of her professors (who are all mostly bound to be awesome female role models) before going to convocation in the afternoon.

 

All the seniors wear their black graduation gowns topped with their purple Morris College hats and Santana feels excited that she’ll be here wearing her own red hat in a few years time. She stands in the back and listens intently to Dean Pierce’s speech as she rakes her eyes over the crowd of seniors.

 

She stops when she finds someone looking back at her. Blue eyes stare at her intently before a smile quirks at the corner of one of the prettiest mouths she’s ever seen. She stupidly checks behind her to see who the girl is looking at and blushes when she glances back to find the girl laughing quietly.

 

Butterflies instantly fill her stomach and her cheeks burn red as their eyes remain locked. The girl bites her lip cutely and dorkily crosses her eyes the longer they stare. Santana laughs loudly but it’s drowned out by the sound of everyone getting up. She’s suddenly swept into a sea of people and panics a little, attempting to peer over everyone’s heads until a hand grabs her by the arm.

 

She’s disappointed when she turns to find Aphasia looking at her.

 

“Bitch, what are you laughing at?” she hisses. “You look fucking crazy.”

 

It makes something inside of her jump. “Nothing,” she shakes herself. “Nothing.”

 

//

 

The lingering feeling of the girl looking at her sticks with her for days.

 

She immerses herself into her classes but in the quiet moments, she finds herself thinking about the girl except she’s not sure why.

 

It’s almost two weeks before she sees the girl again, laughing in the middle of a crowd of people on the green by the lake, and she looks nothing like she did in her smart graduation gown and purple hat.

 

Her dirty blonde hair is no longer tidily pinned up and instead it hangs long, low and wavy around her shoulders. She wears a green army jacket and ripped jeans with a red plaid shirt. Beat up old converse cover her feet and black wayfarers cover those blue eyes that Santana can’t stop thinking about.

 

Girls crowd around her and Santana knows that she’s the center of attention. She pays attention to some more than others and it makes Santana feel curious. She watches her for too long until she realizes she’s late.

 

Dean Pierce looks at her sadly when she walks into the room and it makes Santana feel ashamed.

 

//

 

After that, she sees the girl everywhere.

 

It’s like once she’s seen her she can’t stop seeing her, like her eyes have become attuned to her presence.

 

And it’s kind of hard not to notice her because she’s always wearing the army jacket and is always surrounded by a group of women.

 

Everyday she spends an hour after classes on the green by the lake and Santana knows that because she can see her from the West Adler lounge when she does her homework. She’s never in any of the dining halls, but Santana’s seen her in the student café a couple of times and once in the pub when Dani had managed to sneak her and Aphasia in there for a beer. She always has the same familiar group of girls surrounding her but she doesn’t really seem all that interested in talking to them and more interested in the joint she has tucked behind her ear.

 

It intrigues Santana and she tries her hardest not to watch her.

 

It’s not like the girl would recognize her if she got caught, anyway.

 

//

 

Mountain Day is announced on a chilly day in October.

 

Santana wakes up to the chapel bells ringing and the sound of the rest of the girls screaming in happiness in the hallway. Aphasia lets out a string of curses from beside her before rolling over but Santana groans and steps out into the hall ready to cut a bitch until Quinn grabs hold of her happily.

 

“It’s Mountain Day, Lopez!” she singsongs. Santana glares before slamming the door in her face.

 

She doesn’t understand what’s so exciting about a day without classes and a picnic run by the faculty. It’s possibly the gayest thing this college could do and that’s saying something so she crawls back into bed with a groan and is almost asleep until someone barges into their room.

 

“You’re coming, right?” Tina asks and Santana rolls onto her back to grab for something to throw at her until she hears two more bodies follow in behind her. “You’ve got to.”

 

Luckily, Aphasia throws her pillows at them so she doesn’t have to.

 

“We. Are. Not. Going. To. Some. Lame. Ass. Picnic,” she says as she throws each of the many pillows on her bed directly at them. Santana leans up on her elbows and watches every single one hit them in the face.

 

It’s Quinn that throws them back, much more aggressively than necessary. “We’re not talking about the fucking picnic, you asshole. It’s _Mountain Day._ Don’t you know what that means?”

 

When both Aphasia and Santana stare at them silently for five minutes, it’s clear that they haven’t got a clue.

 

Quinn, Tina and Mercedes grin widely. If anything it just makes Santana feel nervous.

 

Quinn laughs and bites her lip.

 

“It’s time to get wasted, fuckers.”

 

//

 

They don’t tell them anything other than to dress warmly and to bring any booze they might have.

 

Santana’s pretty sure that Aphasia has some idea what’s happening because she packs some of her baggies of weed and makes sure she’s got enough cash. It makes Santana more nervous so she takes a sip from her bottle of Jack before putting it in her purse.

 

When they get to the lobby, all the girls from West Adler are congregated by the front doors. Quinn beckons them over, her arm wrapped tightly around Tina as she grins happily.

 

“Britt’s gonna be here in a sec,” she says and Santana just nods like she’s supposed to know who she’s talking about. “That’s what everyone’s waiting for.”

 

Santana looks at Aphasia who, for once, doesn’t look uninterested. She shrugs her shoulders and peers around them, her hands tucked into her back pockets.

 

Not five minutes later, Santana hears an old vehicle coming up the gravel drive to the building. When she looks, she frowns at finding a rainbow-patterned old school VW bus ailing towards them. It splutters a little and screeches as it breaks but then Quinn is urging them towards it and bringing the whole of West Adler with her.

 

Santana’s not sure what’s happening when a guy with messy blonde hair gets out of the passenger side first but then he hops over to Mercedes and kisses her on the cheek.

 

Santana watches them with curiosity but stops when she feels it—that gaze she’d felt at convocation—warming her from head to toe. She stares past the blonde boy and into the bus and lets her breath catch in her throat when she finds clear blue eyes staring back at her.

 

A sly grin barely crosses the girl’s mouth before she’s turning to Quinn. “Who’s coming with us, Q?”

 

Santana finds herself sinking backwards, leaning her body against Aphasia as she hopes to God that there isn’t enough room for them.

 

“Me, Mercedes, Tina—”

 

“Duh,” she says before blue eyes flicker back to Santana and linger.

 

“Rachel, I guess,” Quinn says as the blonde guy helps them into the back of the bus.

 

“Don’t forget Sugar Motta,” someone says and Santana is shoved out of the way as Sugar comes bounding towards the bus with her bag clinking behind her. She climbs into the bus and kisses the girl on the cheek. “Hey, Britt,” she winks.

 

Santana looks away uncomfortably and stares at Quinn while trying to appear as small as possible. She doesn’t get a chance to say anything else because the girl is leaning forward and jutting her chin towards them.

 

“Who’re the newbs?” she asks and Quinn looks at them.

 

“Oh, Santana and Aphasia,” she says like it’s obvious. She gestures towards them. “Come on. Get in.”

 

//

 

Aphasia gets into the back and Santana pauses before getting into the passenger seat. She’s too aware that the blonde guy just closed the back of the bus and there’s a crowd of people waiting for her to get in that would kill to be in her place.

 

Blue eyes fix on hers before a hand reaches out to help her. It’s covered in mismatched rings and bracelets. Santana doesn’t take it and instead climbs into the bus by herself, pulling the door closed behind her.

 

The girl goes to speak but loud music blasts from somewhere behind her, quickly cutting her off.

 

She glances back to the others and rolls her eyes before driving away.

 

//

 

They’ve been driving for fifteen minutes before she decides to speak again. Santana hasn’t said a word but the girl has been making offhand comments to those already getting drunk in the back of the bus.

 

It hasn’t stopped her constantly glancing at Santana, though, and Santana doesn’t know what to do so she just sits there in silence.

 

“I’m Brittany,” the girl says eventually and it’s quiet like she doesn’t want anyone else to hear.

 

Santana stays staring forward and swallows thickly. “Santana,” is all she says in response.

 

“Are you… a freshman?”

 

Santana nods. It seems to appease the girl.

 

“I thought I’d never seen you before,” she comments.

 

She doesn’t say anything else after that but Santana finds herself wanting her to.

 

//

 

When they go off-road and onto an old dirt track, Santana’s pretty sure that this night is going to end up like every crappy horror movie she’s ever seen.

 

Everywhere she looks, all she can see is trees and darkness and she clutches her purse tighter to her body as she wishes she’d remembered to call her mom earlier.

 

When Brittany giggles beside her, she turns to her nervously and blushes when she finds her watching. She doesn’t say anything, just grins and shakes her head in a way that’s almost fond.

 

When they drive for another fifteen minutes, out into a clearing where there’s already a large group of people surrounding an already huge bonfire, Santana only feels a little less nervous. Brittany parks the bus next to a minivan and a large-berth tent and turns to them expectantly. Everyone climbs out and disappears off into separate groups as they pull out their booze.

 

Aphasia waits for Santana and they look around the large clearing where more cars are starting to pull in.

 

“Mountain Day,” Aphasia says like that’s a perfect reason for the swarms of college students that approach.

 

Santana nods slowly and clutches her purse tighter to her. “Yeah. Mountain Day.”

 

//

 

Santana’s never really been the partying type.

 

Since starting at Morris, she’s maybe been to two or three parties.

 

(That’s if you call leaving her room and walking along the hall through a crowd of sophomores to get to the roof in her PJs going to a party.)

 

They make her feel awkward, and like she’s sixteen again, dressed in a too-tight cheerleading outfit and making out with boys she didn’t want to in order to forget that her best friend was having sex upstairs.

 

That’s kind of what this party feels like now. As she leans against a tree behind Brittany’s camper, it kind of reminds her of being the girl who perpetually loitered in doorways, watching everything else go on. She hopes that tonight doesn’t end like most of those nights did, when she would wait for the first drunk jock to approach her and head upstairs. She doubts it will; she’s too self-aware for that now.

 

Instead, she assumes that she’ll be stuck here with her bottle of Jack, watching Aphasia sell her weed, until someone is sober enough to drive them back to school. From the way that tents have been dotted around the clearing, she doubts that it will be any time soon.

 

Everyone seems to be here for the long haul. There’s a guy in a wheelchair handling the music hooked up to his laptop and minivan. Mercedes and her boyfriend stand nearby him, feeding logs to the fire while a tall Asian guy in a fedora handles the three kegs they have set up on an old camping table.

 

Brittany’s been standing with them since they arrived, laughing and joking and intermittently breaking into dance routines with the Asian guy. They only catch Santana’s attention because they’re the only ones dancing; everyone else seems more interested in getting wasted and disappearing into a tent to fuck.

 

For the first time since she arrived at Morris, Santana finds herself pining for her lumpy plastic dorm mattress.

 

“Where’s your friend?”

 

Santana looks up and her mouth falls a little when she finds Brittany looking down at her holding two red solo cups. It closes in quick succession when she lifts her hand to gesture over to where Aphasia gave up selling in favor of sampling over an hour and a half ago.

 

Bitch.

 

Brittany nods and eyes the nearby log that Santana’s deliberately avoided sitting on. “Here,” she says, holding out one of the cups. “I thought you might want a beer.”

 

Santana holds up her still full bottle of jack and Brittany grins knowingly, stubbornly holding out the cup.

 

When Santana shivers slightly, she sloshes it from side to side.

 

“You need _something_ to warm you up,” she teases. It’s almost flirty.

 

It makes Santana take the cup wordlessly, glad when Brittany disappears back to her friends.

 

She drinks the beer but that’s not what makes her feel warmer.

 

 

//

 

An hour and a half later and she’s given up avoiding the log and instead she’s curled up on it, wishing she had the guts to move closer to the fire. Her beer is gone and she’s only taken a couple sips from the Jack.

 

She’s pretty sure that she saw Aphasia disappear into a tent a while ago but she doesn’t want to think about what she’s doing.

 

She’s more worried about the fact that she can’t feel her legs.

 

Her brain subconsciously starts remembering everything it knows about hypothermia and she’s almost genuinely concerned about the cloudiness of her head until a pair of well worn old boots step closer to her.

 

A small chuckle fills her ears over the music and she follows the boots up a lithe body to find Brittany staring down at her again.

 

“You okay?” Brittany asks amusedly and Santana tries to play down the fact that she’s shivering and shaking like a crispy fall leaf in the wind. She shrugs and tries to smile until the smirk drops from Brittany’s face. “You don’t say much, do you?”

 

Santana doesn’t answer but lets her body convulse with the cold. Her bottom lip wobbles and her teeth start to chatter. Brittany watches it before taking her hand.

 

“Here,” she says, pulling her to her feet. “Come with me.”

 

//

 

She leads her to the camper and urges her to climb inside. She closes the doors behind them and Santana sits down as she climbs over into the back and pulls something out.

 

It’s a blanket, and she dusts it off a little before unfolding it.

 

“Sorry it’s so gross,” she says but doesn’t ask before wrapping it gently around Santana’s shoulders. It’s warm and soft and nice and almost makes Santana not notice that Brittany’s moved beside her. “So you’re Santana?” she says eventually. Santana nods. “Where are you from, Santana?”

 

Santana swallows thickly. She feels nervous for more than the fact that Brittany is looking right at her. “Ohio,” she says softly. “Lima, Ohio.”

 

Brittany nods and they lapse into silence until Brittany suddenly bursts into laughter. Santana finds herself smiling in confusion until Brittany stops and grins.

 

“You really, really don’t say all that much, do you?” she asks.

 

Santana finds herself grinning too and shakes her head. “I don’t know what to say,” she explains.

 

Brittany’s brow furrows curiously, like Santana doesn’t need to say anything else. Her eyes sparkle but it’s so bright and clear that Santana can tell it isn’t from booze or drugs.

 

“Well, what’s your favorite color?” Brittany asks and Santana frowns before answering.

 

“Um, red, I guess.”

 

“Good thing you’re a freshman then, huh?” Brittany quips as she reaches into her jacket and pulls out a metal flask. “What’s your major? Or is that too soon to tell?”

 

Santana watches her curiously. “History, I think. Maybe Philosophy.”

 

Something in Brittany’s expression changes at her answer. Her brow quirks knowingly and it makes Santana feel more self-conscious than anything in the past year has.

 

“Cool,” she says as she takes a long sip from her flask before lapsing into silence.

 

It kinda makes Santana confused.

 

“What—what about you?” she asks timidly. “What are you studying?”

 

Brittany laughs a little. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

 

It piques Santana’s interests. “Why?”

 

Brittany shrugs. “You just wouldn’t. No one does.”

 

Santana smiles. “Is it that weird? Is it boring?” Brittany doesn’t answer. Santana narrows her eyes and tries not to smile. “Is it Geography?”

 

Brittany laughs and shakes her head in a way that isn’t an answer.

 

“You’re funny,” she says instead.

 

Santana swears that her heart is beating so loud that it’s going to make a break from her chest. She doesn’t know what to say. Most people just call her a bitch.

 

“Thanks,” she lets out quietly.

 

Brittany noticeably softens at the sound of it. “You’re welcome,” she whispers.

 

And then it’s unlike anything Santana’s ever felt. The cold in her body suddenly dissipates into bone-deep overwhelming warmth like someone’s fed her hot honey sweet tea and soup all day. Brittany’s eyes are bright blue like winter but somehow as warm as the hottest summer day. It’s like sitting in the sun and as she leans in closer, it feels like noon and Santana’s sweating, her mouth dry as a hand brazenly reaches out and touches her elbow.

 

A nose slides against hers and Brittany’s eyes flutter closed as she breathes in. Santana’s seconds away from closing the space between them and having the best moment of her life but then—

 

“Britt, are you in there?!” Someone shouts as they bash on the side of the bus.

 

Santana quickly moves away and drops the blanket, only stopping when Brittany grabs her arm and holds her back.

 

“Don’t—” She starts and breathes out shakily. “You stay in here. I’ll—I’ll go.”

 

She sulks from the bus, her head lowered guiltily as she goes back to her friends.

 

Santana breathes out minutes later, and collapses back onto the seats.

 

It takes her five minutes to grab the blanket but much longer to calm down.

 

//

 

The next time she sees Brittany is just before sunrise and everyone else is following her back to the bus to leave.

 

Santana already regrets moving away from her and hasn’t stopped wondering what would have happened if she didn’t. She slips into the passengers seat after returning the blanket to the back.

 

Brittany barely looks at her as she climbs into the drivers’ seat and that, more than anything, makes Santana feel miserable.

 

//

 

After that, it’s like she and Brittany can’t stop running into each other.

 

It’s not like before when she would see Brittany but Brittany would never notice her. Now, they see each other everywhere. She runs into Brittany in the hallways near the history department and Brittany gets in line behind her with Quinn at the café during lunch. They even run into each other at the grocery store off campus and Brittany pauses before smiling politely and walking in the other direction.

 

It sucks and Santana wishes she were brave enough to just step up to her and talk to her but the crowds around her never thin.

 

She’s a nobody and it’s clear that Brittany knows everybody.

 

//

 

It’s not until they go to another school event that Santana discovers _why_ everyone knows Brittany.

 

As usual, Quinn drags her and Aphasia along, telling them that it’s one of the most important parties of the year: the 1940s Swing Dance at Ryerson Hall.

 

Santana only goes because she’s heard of it and knows that everyone will be there, that Brittany will be there. She finds thrifty 1940s dresses for her and Aphasia and tries not to roll her eyes at Aphasia packing more weed into her purse while she fixes her hair.

 

When they get there, Ryerson and its infamous ballroom is heaving with a sea of people.

 

It doesn’t take her long to find Brittany. She’s on the dance floor and she sticks out in the sea of dresses because she’s one of the few people wearing a suit. A vintage suit that somehow still manages to cinch her in at all the right places. A perfectly laundered shirt tucks into navy blue, high-waisted pants that are held up by bright red suspenders. She wears a wide red tie and her hair is pinned atop her head. She’s not wearing a jacket and Santana finds herself watching her strong arms where her sleeves are folded up.

 

It’s a sight to behold and Santana can’t look away.

 

Yet, strangely, it’s not until she’s outside smoking with Aphasia that they actually run into each other. It makes her feel a little nervous that Brittany actually looks like she’s trying to find them when they do.

 

She comes outside, pulling her jacket around her shoulders and a red flat cap onto her head. Her eyes light up when she finds them and Santana tries to think of something to say.

 

The words die quickly on her tongue when Brittany steps up to Aphasia and tugs on her jacket instead. She watches as Aphasia turns to her and rolls her eyes, sighing irritably before shaking her head.

 

“I said ‘no’,” is all she says and Santana frowns.

 

Brittany’s face falls. “C’mon, I already told you—”

 

“No,” Aphasia repeats. “I told you. I don’t do that.”

 

Brittany laughs. “Well, we both know you do but—”

 

“I’m not talking about this with you,” Aphasia says and she looks nervous, skittish, ready to bolt like she did that first day they met. “You can find what you want somewhere else. You ain’t gettin’ it from me.”

 

“I just need—”

 

“No.”

 

“But—”

 

“No,” she says, getting up in Brittany’s face, just like she got into Santana’s that day. Except she’s grabbing Santana’s hand and pulling on her arm, away from Ryerson hall and back down onto the main path. “C’mon, Lopez.”

 

Santana glances back and catches Brittany’s eyes.

 

They soften and it’s like she only just noticed her.

 

//

 

“I don’t get it,” Santana says once they’re back in their room. “What did she want?”

 

Aphasia shakes her head as she shrugs out of her dress and searches in her dresser for something to sleep in.

 

“She wanted some of my fuckin’ weed, is what she wanted,” She says quietly before sucking at her teeth and shaking her head. “She thinks she’s all that gettin’ what she wants but she ain’t havin’ any of my shit.”

 

“Why not?” Santana asks her in confusion, brow furrowed deeply. “Is this a popularity thing or something?”

 

Aphasia looks at her like she’s stupid. “Are you fuckin’ dense?”

 

Santana shrugs. “From what I can see, she seems pretty cool. I mean, she organizes all those parties and everyone seems to like her and she’s—”

 

“The fucking Dean of School’s daughter?” Aphasia spits. “Aren’t we forgetting _that_?”

 

Santana’s eyes widen and her stomach drops. “ _What?!_ ” she yelps. “She’s— _what_?!?”

 

Aphasia’s face softens before recognition sparks. “Didn’t you fucking know?” she asks disbelievingly. “You can’t seriously be telling me that you didn’t know that? I mean, how could you not?”

 

Santana’s doesn’t know. Months of researching this school and Dean Pierce—one of the main reasons she was so excited to study here instead of Yale, or Columbia or Dartmouth where she could have gone—and she never knew she had a daughter.

 

She knows the title of every single one of Dean Pierce’s published papers but she didn’t know that Brittany—the Brittany who tried to kiss her—was Brittany _Pierce_.

 

Only one thought registers in her mind:

 

Fuck.

 

//

 

She actively avoids her no matter how much her stomach seems to simultaneously drop and flutter every time she sees her.

 

She can barely look at Dean Pierce, no matter how many times Dean Pierce calls on her in class or comments on her good work.

 

All she can think about is the fact that she totally masturbated thinking about kissing her daughter when Aphasia was at her Friday afternoon econ classes. All she can think about is the fact that she wants Brittany’s mouth on her—

 

Nope.

 

No more.

 

//

 

Friday afternoons are going to be so boring.

 

//

 

She swears there’s something wrong with her. It’s like the less she wants to think about her, the more she actually does and the worse her thoughts get. She should be thinking about the fact that she’s going to be spending her first Thanksgiving alone but instead all she can think about is kissing the Dean’s daughter.

 

Even Aphasia’s noticed there’s something wrong with her.

 

“What is wrong with you?” she asks, throwing a pillow from across the room. “Do you have crabs or something? You won’t sit still.”

 

Santana stiffens and tries to calm down. “I’m just worried about not going home, is all.”

 

Aphasia sighs. “Then go call your mother.”

 

//

 

She doesn’t call her mother but she does go for a walk.

 

There’s a lookout spot by the lake that most people don’t bother coming to because it’s so far away. Santana found it once when she was bored and Tina and Quinn wouldn’t stop fucking while she was studying.

 

It’s the last place she expects to find Brittany.

 

Except Brittany’s sat against the concrete wall looking out over the lake just like Santana had planned to. Brittany’s got her beanie almost over her eyes and her blonde hair looks messy enough to pull. She’s smoking a joint and wearing cut off gloves. It’s not really sunny but her wayfarers are over her eyes and she doesn’t notice Santana until Santana boldly goes and sits next to her.

 

She looks shocked and surprised and stays silent while Santana lights up a smoke.

 

“Hey,” she finally says in this cute, quiet voice. It’s almost nervous. “What are you doing here?”

 

Santana glances at her. “Came here for some air,” she says and can’t help but notice that she hasn’t been this calm all week. “I didn’t think anyone would be here.”

 

“I could go,” Brittany says but trails off when Santana quickly shakes her head. “How are things?”

 

Santana nods. “Good.”

 

“Are you going home for—” She trails off when Santana quickly shakes her head and respectfully takes off her wayfarers instead. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Don’t be,” Santana says taking a drag from the cigarette in her fingers. “It wouldn’t be as fun as it usually is. It wasn’t last year and I doubt anything’s changed this year.” She laughs bitterly. “I’d rather be here studying than at home watching my mom try to make the peace while my entire family tells me how disgusting I am.”

 

Brittany’s eyes spark with recognition. “You’re—” Santana nods and breathes out a cloud of smoke. “That sucks.”

 

“Not as much as being forced out by a congressional campaign ad,” Santana comments, shaking her head at Brittany’s wide eyes. “It’s a long story but, yeah. Mom took it well… everyone else, not so much.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Brittany repeats and it’s sadder this time.

 

“Don’t be,” Santana whispers. “It just feels nice being somewhere where nobody knows who I am— _what_ I am.”

 

“But nobody here cares,” Brittany tells her.

 

It’s a truth that Santana hates.

 

“And that makes it worse,” she whispers. “That’s the part that makes it difficult… and confusing. It’s hard to understand why it’s okay to want to kiss you here but that it’s a sin at home. It’s hard to know what to bel—”

 

When warm lips hit hers, they’re soft and taste vaguely of weed but mostly delicate and sweet like Brittany. Brittany’s hand presses against her cheek and Santana sighs, feeling them sink into each other before Brittany gently pulls away.

 

Brittany’s eyes are hazy and her gaze is warm. She runs her lips together with her hand still on Santana’s cheek and she looks so cute and nervous, all wrapped up in her coat and stripy scarf.

 

“Did that feel like a sin?” she asks quietly.

 

Santana looks at her in shock and answers honestly.

 

“No,” she whispers. “I don’t think it did.”

 

//

 

In the days leading up to Thanksgiving break, Santana can’t stop thinking about her or that kiss.

 

Aphasia and the others still think her weird behavior is because of Thanksgiving and that makes it easier. They leave her alone because they assume that she’s moping and don’t ask any questions.

 

She goes to her classes and barely pays attention, hardly noticing what her professors are saying in favor of daydreaming about that damn kiss. It’s not good but she doesn’t care. She still somehow manages to keep up, answering questions like she’s subconsciously absorbed the answers by osmosis.

 

But when she’s not in the classroom, she’s always on high alert, watching out for Brittany because Brittany doesn’t ignore her anymore.

 

She doesn’t seek her out or really talk to her either but on the couple of occasions that they’ve run into each other, Brittany’s said hello and smiled at her. Santana noticed that her ears went bright red—even though she couldn’t be sure if that was her doing or the fact that the cold has started to settle in—but it was cute. Brittany always seems to be with Quinn or Sugar but it doesn’t matter.

 

Santana’s just glad that she’s not walking away anymore.

 

//

 

West Adler is quiet during the holidays.

 

Most of the girls have gone home, including Aphasia who took the first train out to Chicago the minute her classes ended. Santana’s pretty sure that it’s only her and Harmony left but she can’t be sure. She’s only seen the girl three times since she moved in.

 

But it’s nice. She can watch her TV as loud as she wants and walk out onto the roof in her PJs without getting judged. There’s no one in the communal lounges and they stocked the vending machines before everyone left so she’s got her pick of candy.

 

Her mom called her on Wednesday morning to make sure she was okay but Santana’s pretty sure that it was just her way of saying she wasn’t because she called at least four times after that. It was totally awkward because she interrupted Santana’s marathon masturbation fest every time.

 

And sure, that’s another good thing, she guesses. It doesn’t matter if she’s not wearing any pants or if she’s taking the opportunity of an empty room to masturbate as much as she can because it’s not like she can do this every weekend.

 

(It’s not like she used to do that before when she was at home in her nice double bed, but hey. Whatever. Living four feet away from another human being has made her realize the things she used to take for granted. She appreciates every orgasm she gives herself like it’s a gift.)

 

And walking around the college campus is nicer when it isn’t teeming with loud, obnoxious groups of women. She went for a walk after the third time her mom called and saw three people the entire time. But it was also weird and almost nice to get back to the comfort of her room. She’s kind of gotten used to constantly being surrounded by people.

 

(If she’s honest, when her mom called and interrupted her the forth time, she was kind of glad for someone to talk to.)

 

Whatever. She guesses she’ll just have to get used to it.

 

//

 

There’s none of her mother’s food preparation to wake up for so she sleeps in on Thanksgiving.

 

It instantly fills her with a pang of longing and she forces herself back to sleep just to stop herself from thinking about how much she wishes she was helping her mom make pie.

 

She watches the Macy’s parade on TV and eats ramen for lunch before going back to bed. She’s about thirty seconds away from being asleep when she hears someone knock on her door.

 

For about twenty seconds, she’s sure she imagined it but then someone knocks again and Santana’s more sure that she’s probably going to get killed.

 

She was about ninety five percent sure that Harmony had gone home and it irritates her a little that Harmony only wants to speak to her now. That’s why she doesn’t put on any pants, determined to look as put out as possible when she bitches her out for bothering her. If she thinks they’re going to be holiday buddies after three months of her completely ignoring _everyone_ then—

 

Oh fuck.

 

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck…

 

It’s Brittany.

 

//

 

Brittany’s eyes must look just as wide and shocked as hers do. She stares at Santana and Santana does little more than stare back at her until she gathers the urge to speak.

 

“Um, hi,” she mumbles timidly, tugging on the bottom of her shirt to cover herself up. All it does is make Brittany stare at her legs. “What—what are you doing here?”

 

Brittany’s eyes dart back up to hers and she shifts the backpack on her shoulder as she focuses.

 

“I was looking for Aphasia,” Brittany explains. Santana’s face falls quickly and every preconceived idea to how this could go instantly flies out the window. “She—um—she said she was going to be here.”

 

Santana tugs on her shirt some more and moves until she can hide herself with the doorframe.

 

“She went home to Chicago,” Santana says as Brittany’s eyes dart back down her body again. “How did you get in here?”

 

Brittany frowns before realization strikes. She holds up her campus ID. “I have access to every building on campus,” she says with a shrug. “For emergencies and like… stuff. Is she coming back before school starts?” Santana shakes her head. “Oh. She told me she was going to be here.”

 

“You said that already,” Santana says bitterly. “Don’t you have her number? Couldn’t you call her or something instead of coming over?”

 

It makes Brittany swallow nervously and Santana likes that. She likes that she can make her do that for so many reasons. “She wouldn’t give me it,” she explains further. “I thought I’d come anyway.”

 

“Why?” Santana asks. “She’s obviously not interested in you so you might as well go home or something. Find some other girl to go kiss.”

 

Brittany’s expression drops. “That’s—no, no, no, you’ve got it wrong,” she says, reaching forward to push open Santana’s door as she inches it closed. “I’m not—that’s not why I’m here.”

 

Santana doesn’t say anything but she folds her arms across her chest and gives Brittany a look that asks her to continue.

 

“Aphasia doesn’t want me to have her phone number for _that_ reason,” Brittany explains. “She doesn’t want me to have because she’s—she’s got the same idea about me that everyone else at this school does.” Santana frowns and shifts. “Everyone thinks that because my mom is the Dean that I’m her little minion. They think that if they’re friends with me then there will be perks and all that kind of shit because I can make it happen. They also think that I report back to her and I tell her stuff but I don’t.” Brittany lets her hands drop and she looks away from Santana up to the lofty high ceiling of the hallway. “My mom and I barely talk to each other.”

 

Santana’s face drops and her stomach starts buzzing with familiarity at the admission. She softens and tilts her head as Brittany shrugs like she’ll cry if she doesn’t and carries on.

 

“Everyone thinks that my mom is this awesome person and that I’m so lucky to have her as my mom, but it’s not true,” Brittany tries to explain. “We don’t really—She’s not—I guess we’re just different. We can’t talk to each other so we don’t but it’s just us. My dad left and we don’t know where he is and we don’t have anyone else so we just exist. And I think Aphasia’s cool, okay? She’s in my math class and she’s funny and we were totally friends and then she found out I was the Dean’s kid and got weird and then I asked her if she could find me some weed and she got mad because she thinks I’m spying on her for my mom.”

 

Santana worries her lip between her teeth. “But you’re not?”

 

“No,” Brittany laughs, shaking her head. “I just want to be her friend and I came here today because I asked her if she was going home and she said she wasn’t so I thought I’d bring her some of the thanksgiving dinner I prepared that my mom never eats and—”

 

She trails off to nervously point her thumb at the backpack she’s carrying as proof.

 

It makes Santana smile. “She probably thought you were going to break into our room and go through her stuff.”

 

Brittany laughs and nods. “Yeah, well, I’m not going to do that.” Her cheeks blush a pretty pink and she takes a deep breath in before looking at Santana again. “I didn’t realize you guys were roommates.”

 

“It’s not easy,” Santana jokes.

 

Brittany smiles widely and sighs like she’s relieved, like a weight has been lifted off her shoulders. She steps closer and begins tugging off her bag.

 

“Have you eaten?” she asks. Santana frowns and shakes her head. Ramen doesn’t really count on Thanksgiving. It makes Brittany grin. “Do you have a microwave?”

 

Santana nods after a brief, awkward pause.

 

“Then can I come in?” Brittany asks, moving close enough that they’re almost touching. “There’s no point in this dinner going to waste, is there?”

 

Santana breathes in unsteadily and feels her head tilting back to look up at Brittany.

 

“No, sure,” she says except she’s not sure what she’s agreeing with. “Of course.”

 

//

 

Brittany heats up and sets out an entire thanksgiving dinner on her desk, including napkins and two cans of Dr. Pepper. There’s gravy and corn bread and Santana watches in amusement as Brittany pulls over Aphasia’s desk chair to sit adjacent to her.

 

“You made all this?” she asks only getting a slight nod in response. “Were you bored?”

 

Brittany smiles at that and cracks open their cans before pouring them into coffee mugs. “It gets lonely up here on holidays. Everyone’s with their families and my mom likes to work.”

 

Santana nods in understanding before taking her first bite. It’s yummy and home cooked and she takes three more bites before looking up to find Brittany watching her.

 

“It’s good,” she says.

 

Brittany screws up her nose. “It’s microwaved.”

 

“Doesn’t matter to me,” Santana says before pausing. “Thank you.”

 

Brittany’s face softens and her eyes brighten.

 

“You’re welcome,” she says in a tiny voice.

 

It makes Santana smile.

 

//

 

Santana soon finds that there’s nothing better than making Brittany laugh.

 

Brittany eats slowly and listens to her intently. It makes Santana feel warm and watched but not self-conscious and it’s strange considering she’s sat in nothing but her bedhead and a t-shirt. She keeps catching Brittany staring at her when she isn’t looking and her ears go red but she never looks away.

 

Brittany takes the dishes to the kitchen like she’s been here before and comes back ten minutes later with a soapy wet patch on the front of her pretty blue blouse. She puts the leftover food on Santana’s shelf in the fridge and it makes Santana panic a little.

 

“Are you leaving?” she asks worriedly.

 

Brittany stands up to look at her, brushing a wave of blonde hair from her eyes as she does.

 

“Do you want me to?” she asks.

 

Santana feels honesty bubble pathetically up her throat. “No,” she shakes her head.

 

Brittany smiles gently. “Then I’ll stay.”

 

//

 

They sit on her bed and watch _Home Alone_ and Santana smiles when Brittany laughs at the funny parts.

 

She’s cute and dorky and doesn’t act nearly as cool as she does when Santana’s seen her with other people. Brittany’s laughter dies down when their shoulders bump halfway through and her hand reaches out into the small space between them on the sheets when Santana doesn’t move away. Her laughs become chuckles and Santana’s more aware of Brittany than she is of the movie. Brittany seems more interested in glancing at her than at the TV.  

 

“What’s wrong?” Santana asks self-consciously when Harry’s had his head blowtorched but Brittany hasn’t laughed. She staring at her softly instead, blinking slowly, and Santana breathes in deeply before looking down at herself. “I look awful, don’t I?” she whispers.

 

Brittany shakes her head, her head rustling against the posters on Santana’s wall. “You’re beautiful.”

 

Santana tries to breathe in steadily. It’s hard because no one’s ever told her that before… at least not anyone who isn’t her mother. She doesn’t say anything because she doesn’t think she could say anything that wouldn’t make her sound like a pathetic loser.

 

It doesn’t seem to bother Brittany who just smiles slowly and shifts closer.

 

“If I try to kiss you,” she breathes. “Are you going to pull away again?”

 

Santana gulps and finds herself staring at Brittany’s lips before becoming preoccupied with the way that Brittany’s long fingers are scratching at the sheets.

 

“I didn’t last time, did I?” she whispers back.

 

Brittany’s smile is wry and gorgeous. “I didn’t really give you a choice.”

 

Santana glances at her and shrugs, trying to be as coy and flirty as possible. “Well, then…” she says. “You’ll just have to—”

 

She doesn’t get to say anything else because Brittany’s already kissing her.

 

//

 

Brittany tastes like Dr. Pepper and feels warm and full like the dinner had made her feel. She kisses her softly at first, calm and controlled like she’s really thinking about how she wants to do it. Her hands grip the sheets either side of her and Santana feels ridiculous gripping the bottom of her t-shirt until Brittany gasps away from her and loses control.

 

Her kisses delve deeper then, her tongue teasing Santana’s bottom lip as her hand reaches up to pull Santana closer. Fingertips tease over the small curls at the back of her neck and Santana whimpers, desperately needing to be closer when Brittany’s tongue moves deliciously inside of her mouth.

 

Her body curls into Brittany’s, her hand reaching up to grip the wrist of the one cupping her neck. Brittany shudders at the touch and pulls back with her eyes still closed. She breathes unsteadily, kissing Santana’s cheek, her chin, before leaning forward to rearrange the pillows and urge Santana against them.

 

Santana’s hands find Brittany’s shoulders and words fumble from her without really thinking about it. “I haven’t done this before.”

 

Brittany pulls back in confusion. Santana doesn’t let her ask; she just tells her.

 

“I once tried to kiss my best friend but she pushed me away,” Santana explains. “I’ve had sex with boys but I—”

 

“We can stop,” Brittany cuts through quickly. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

 

Santana quickly shakes her head. “I don’t want to stop,” she admits as her cheeks burn.

 

Brittany smiles happily. “Okay,” she whispers, pressing their noses together. “Then we won’t stop.”

 

//

 

Brittany’s not how she thought she would be.

 

It sounds bad but Santana expected confident and aware. She expected a cocky girl who knew that there’s probably a line waiting around the corner for her once this was over. Santana expected nerves. She expected this to be way more lighthearted than it actually is. She expected Brittany to expect things of her.

 

But there’s none of that.

 

If anything, Brittany seems to be more nervous than Santana is. Sure, there’s confidence and her hands move with an ease that only someone who has done this many times before can have, but they shake a little as they cup Santana’s face. Brittany pulls away to look at her like she might disappear, touches her like she’s never touched anything like her. Her eyes are wide with awe and Santana can’t help but feel like she’s the most beautiful thing Brittany’s ever seen.

 

She can’t help but feel the steady thump of her heart as everything she’s waited for becomes so overwhelmingly real.

 

Brittany’s hands touch her slowly, moving from her neck, down between her breasts before gripping at the bottom of her shirt. She pushes it up slowly and bends down to kiss at Santana’s stomach as she reveals the skin. Cold air soon tightens her nipples and she shivers at the feel of it, glad that Brittany doesn’t push it up any further.

 

Instead, she leans up on her knees and starts to remove her own clothes. Her blouse pulls easily over the top of her head and Santana pants and bites the backs of her fingers when Brittany looks down at her as she undoes her jeans. She pushes them down her thighs to reveal black panties and her belt buckle makes a sound as it hits something across the room.

 

Brittany hovers over her body and kisses her slowly as she lets Santana remove her bra and throw it across the room. Her breasts are perfect and her nipples are pink and hard. Her skin flushes when Santana takes them into her mouth in turn and it feels like she’s being burned when Brittany’s naked skin finally presses against her own.

 

“You feel amazing,” she pants as they squirm and fit together.

 

Brittany kisses her neck and moans in her ear. The friction against her body is soft and comfortable and unlike anything she’s ever felt. Careful hands explore her like she’s a brand new planet, with wonder and respect in her bright blue eyes. Her fingers push down Santana’s underwear after checking three times that it’s okay. She watches Santana for signs of discomfort when her hands slide up her thighs but Santana just opens her legs wider, moaning in utter bliss and appreciation when fingers flutter over her core.

 

Brittany touches her slowly, rolling fingertips teasingly over her clit until Santana groans in her ear. She feels ridiculously wet but Brittany doesn’t seem to mind, kissing her harder as desperation fills her touches.

 

Santana moans when one finger enters her, hips jerking as Brittany’s long fingers instantly bump against a spot she’s never felt before. She gasps and meets Brittany’s eyes, staring into them as Brittany presses inside of her and meets it again.

 

“More,” she hisses. “I need—oh _fuck_ —” she groans when fingers slide higher inside of her and bend slightly until they’re rubbing directly where she wants it. It’s hot and overwhelming and it must literally only be seconds until she’s keening and groaning and coming harder than she’s ever managed herself. It’s a warm, deep, blooming ache that radiates through her body and Brittany kisses her nose and watches her until her body stops shuddering and relaxes.

 

“Wow,” she whispers in disbelief.

 

Brittany smiles shyly and kisses her.

 

//

 

In the months that she’s been at college, Santana think she’s learned more in her bedroom with Brittany than she has in all of her classes put together.

 

Brittany is beautiful and she somehow knows more about Santana’s body than she does herself. She knows exactly what it wants and what Santana needs and if Santana thought she was beautiful before then she has no idea what this makes her. There aren’t words to describe how Brittany looks, her body long, naked and flexed, stretched out ahead of her as her tongue works inside of Santana, fucking her perfectly. The sounds she makes are symphonies and Santana brushes soft blonde hair from her eyes as Brittany makes her come over and over again.

 

She makes Santana aware of things she never knew that she could do. She helps Santana tap into every instinct she’s repressed and rediscovers it for her.

 

Brittany sits astride her, riding the fingers that Santana has tightly fitted inside of her and it makes Santana feel desperate and animal. She wants to see her come but she also wants to slowly learn Brittany’s body. She wants to find out how far her muscles can tense before they snap. She wants to know what shapes her back can make the closer that she gets.

 

She wants to find every spot on her and inside of her that makes her release the lowest, most perfect sounds that Santana’s ever heard until she comes, fluttering around her fingers.

 

And when Brittany flops back on top of her, shaking and clutching for her desperately, Santana loves it.

 

She loves it because Brittany looks at her so curiously that it makes Santana think that maybe, just maybe, she’s learning something too.

 

//

 

“I still don’t know your major,” Santana mumbles as she sleepily appreciates the hand that strokes all over her body. “I don’t know much about you at all, really…”

 

Brittany’s mouth curls against the back of her shoulder. “You know a lot more than most people.”

 

Santana hums and sighs. She doesn’t know how to tell Brittany that she wants to know everything.

 

“You said you met Aphasia at Math class. Are you an econ major like her?” Brittany shakes her head slowly, nose stroking against Santana’s skin. “Then just math?”

 

Brittany shakes her head. “With a minor in physics,” she mumbles, smiling when Santana almost turns around in shock. “I know. I told you no one believes me.”

 

Santana lifts the hand nestled between her breasts to her lips and kisses Brittany’s fingers. “It’s not that I don’t believe you,” she says. “It’s just that it’s impressive. But isn’t Aphasia taking all her necessary classes this year? Shouldn’t you have finished all those by now if you’re a senior?”

 

Brittany nods. “Yeah, but my degree is weird because I’m completing it in two years instead of four.” Santana turns to her curiously and says nothing. She feels Brittany blush against her. “Shut up.”

 

Santana smiles and ignores her. “What are you like a genius or something?”

 

Brittany nods nonchalantly. “Something like that,” she whispers. “I got a 2340 on my SAT when I was sixteen and my mom sent me to MIT to have all this testing done because she didn’t believe it was possible. They found out that I have an IQ of 177 and that I could formulate prime numbers in my head better than a super computer or something.”

 

Santana doesn’t know what to say. “Oh…”

 

Brittany shrugs it off. “It’s whatever. I don’t know. I mean, I thought it was cool until all these colleges got in contact with us wanting me to work with them and my mom decided that she was going to keep me here at Morris. And, like, I didn’t really want to go to college… and mom said she was doing the best thing for me because they’d use me otherwise but what I didn’t realize is that she was the only one using me.”

 

Santana shakes her head in confusion. “How come?”

 

“Well, I tried to switch my major and she wouldn’t let me,” Brittany shrugs like it’s no big deal. “Turns out that she’d been using me to get grants for the university. They fast-tracked my undergraduate degree because they want me to start on my doctorate right away.”

 

Santana turns in her arms and looks at her curiously. “And you don’t want to do any of this?” Brittany shakes her head and shrugs like it’s no big deal. “Then what do you want to do?”

 

Brittany swallows anxiously and shifts on the pillow.

 

“I want to dance.”

 

//

 

Aphasia comes back on Sunday afternoon to find Santana playing Gin Rummy with Brittany on the floor of their bedroom.

 

She groans the minute she sees them and Santana looks up from her cards to roll her eyes at Brittany when she hears it.

 

“Goddamn it, woman,” Aphasia hisses as she drops her duffle to the floor. “How many times do I gotta tell you?!” Her body shifts and she shakes her head like she’s had enough. “Do I gotta kick yo’ ass? Because I’ll kick yo ass if you want me to?”

 

Brittany doesn’t say anything, she just hands her cards to Santana so that she can put them all together before getting up. She pulls on her boots and grabs her coat and doesn’t say anything as she wraps herself up ready to face the cold.

 

She lingers in the doorway with her backpack and Santana pushes her hair behind her ear before following her out to the elevator. The doors open and Santana doesn’t know what to do. She doesn’t know how to say goodbye after four days together.

 

“Thank you for keeping me company,” she says quietly, hand extending to grip at Brittany’s hip.

 

Brittany shifts closer but not close enough. It’s still innocent. “You’re welcome,” she giggles. “I had fun.”

 

Santana nods. “Me too.”

 

Brittany bites her lip cutely. “So, I’ll see you later?” Santana nods and Brittany grins like a dork. “Cool.”

 

She leans in slowly and their noses are barely touching when a door opens down the end of the hall. They both pull back slowly, reluctantly, and Santana’s cursing everything when Brittany’s soft lips press longingly to her cheek.

 

“Bye, Santana,” she whispers.

 

Santana’s heart skips a beat as she moves away.

 

The doors are already closing by the time she snaps back.

 

“Bye,” she sighs, just in time to see Brittany smile in response.

 

//

 

“Oh, really?” is all Aphasia says when she steps back into the room and dreamily flops down onto her bed. She doesn’t say anything and that seems to answer Aphasia better than words do. “Oh, _really_?”

 

“Shut up,” Santana says, rolling onto her side and burying her face into a pillow that somehow smells of Brittany already. “She’s—she’s nice.”

 

Aphasia sucks on her teeth. “Whatever,” she mumbles. “And here I was thinking I was bunking with an uncomfortable straight girl.”

 

Santana scoffs and throws a cushion at her.

 

“Turns out you’re just as queer as the rest of us.”

 

//

 

She doesn’t see Brittany for two days and somehow it almost kills her. She doesn’t see her between classes or on the green after them on Monday. She’s given up hope by Tuesday afternoon but then she runs into her when she’s walking to the café with Quinn for coffee.

 

And Brittany’s all cute and nervous and she barely pays attention to Quinn in favor of trying not to stare at Santana who shamelessly does that to her anyway. They get coffee together and luckily Tina comes in and Quinn barely notices when Brittany excuses herself and Santana does the same thing.

 

They walk together without speaking and Santana follows Brittany down a corridor until they’re hidden and everything is quiet.

 

Brittany presses her into the wall and kisses her slowly and quickly at once. Santana’s hands bury in her hair and they whimper against each other until they’re just stood in the middle of the corridor holding each other.

 

“I missed you,” Brittany whispers and it’s everything Santana’s been too scared to say the whole time they’ve been together.

 

“I missed you, too,” she whispers, glad when Brittany kisses her again.

 

//

 

They sneak around and they don’t know why.

 

They kiss in corridors and meet every evening at the lookout by the lake where they had their first kiss. Brittany visits on Friday afternoons when Aphasia’s at her econ class and Santana knows no one will notice them. They almost get caught by Mercedes one time when she’s leaving but Brittany covers herself pretending she was looking for her.

 

On Saturdays, Santana goes for a “walk” to call her mother and meets Brittany outside the grocery store in town. Brittany takes her back to the apartment she shares with her friend Mike and Mercedes’ boyfriend, Sam and undresses her quickly before pressing her into candy-striped sheets.

 

Brittany still looks at her and touches her like she’s brand new, exploring everything even though Santana’s sure she must have memorized it all by now. It makes her feel like she’s falling and when she realizes what that means it scares her because it didn’t feel like this before. It doesn’t fill her with dread or sadness, just happiness and excitement so big that she doesn’t know what she’s supposed to do with it.

 

They haven’t even labeled what they are or told each other what they want but Santana can feel it, tugging her closer every time Brittany’s near enough to touch.

 

She’s too afraid to say anything.

 

//

 

She tells her mom about her on a Sunday afternoon just before Christmas, when she’s trying to decide what she wants to do for Christmas. Santana wants to come home but her mom sounds guilty and sad when she tells her that she’s not sure if that’s a good idea.

 

“Mom?” she whispers.

 

Her mom sighs wistfully. “Yeah, sweetheart?”

 

“I met somebody,” she breathes quietly, almost hoping her mother doesn’t hear.

 

She does. “Yeah?” she asks and she sounds excited.

 

Instantly, it feels real. Her feelings are real, they’re happening. She wants to cry.

 

“Yeah,” she struggles, already wiping her eyes. “She’s really pretty and smart. I think you’d like her.”

 

Her mom is quiet for a while. “That’s good, baby,” she says and Santana can tell she’s crying too. “Does she treat you right?”

 

Santana nods and feels a sob in her throat. She doesn’t understand this. It’s too fast.

 

“She makes it all feel worth it,” she admits softly because weirdly it’s true. All the pain and the hurt and the loss goes away when Brittany’s looking at her like she’s made of glass, like her entire life would fall apart if Santana went away. She doesn’t feel disgusting or like a sinner. She just feels _right_. “She makes me feel happy again.”

 

Her mom whimpers a little.

 

“That’s wonderful, sweetheart,” she whispers earnestly and that’s better than anything. “I’m so glad.”

 

//

 

She spends Christmas break with Brittany.

 

They waste away the time, watching movies in her dorm room before making sugar cookies in Brittany’s worn out apartment kitchen. She goes to Mike’s dance studio to watch Brittany dance and loves it when Brittany pulls her up to join in with them. She catches Brittany sometimes, performing perfectly executed ballet moves in the mirror and it makes her chest hurt that Brittany is so stuck, that her mom is so controlling.

 

They still don’t talk about what they are and Brittany introduces her to Sam and Mike as her friend even though she’s pretty sure they know they’re sleeping together.

 

And if anything, the way Brittany holds her and looks at her when they’re having sex becomes harder to bear. Blue eyes stare into hers and she holds her so tight that her fingertips almost hurt when they press into her skin. Brittany looks at her like she wants to tell her a million things but Santana doesn’t want to ruin anything so she kisses her before she can.

 

They spend Christmas Eve watching classic movies and drinking spiced rum. Brittany takes her to midnight mass because Santana mentioned how much she was going to miss it and even holds her hand when she starts crying from missing her mom so much.

 

When Brittany presses inside of her later that night, Santana almost hates how little like sex it feels. It’s slow and desperate and longing. They don’t stop until the sun comes up and fall asleep a tangled mess of arms and legs and curly hair.

 

She wakes up to Brittany scratching her back and a nose pressed against her cheek. She wishes her a merry Christmas and leaves Santana confused when she reaches over to her nightstand to pull out a red box with a gold bow. Santana opens it and finds a silver necklace inside with a red heart shaped gem set in the pendant.

 

“It reminded me of you,” Brittany says in explanation and Santana hates that the words still won’t come.

 

She tries for days and, even when Brittany’s kissing her in front of everyone at midnight on New Years, she can’t say them.

 

//

 

Everything changes after Christmas.

 

A few days into the semester, the campus police start putting up posters around the school that everyone narrows their eyes at before looking away.

 

When Santana sees it, her blood runs cold and she walks just a little faster to get back to her room. When she gets there, Aphasia’s already pacing it back and forth like a wounded lion, feral and scared.

 

“Did you see the—”

 

Aphasia cuts right through her. “Did you let her go through my stuff?” she demands. Santana furrows her brow and looks at her confused. “You’re little fucking girlfriend. Did you let her go through my stuff?”

 

Santana shakes her head. “No, of course not. She wouldn’t—”

 

“How do you know?” Aphasia demands. “How do you know she wouldn’t? How do you know she isn’t playing you just to get to me for her mom?”

 

Santana grits her jaw and tries to stay calm, even as she starts to feel scared. “Because she wouldn’t—”

 

“How do you know that?!” Aphasia shouts before she can answer and she looks crazy.

 

“Because she wouldn’t!” Santana yells back. “You’ve got her wrong!”

 

Aphasia corners her and there’s something different about it that actually terrifies Santana. She looks desperate and like she’d do anything to make this okay. Her hand reaches up and presses Santana against the wall by her neck. Her eyes are watering.

 

“You don’t get it, Lopez,” she hisses. “This is the only way I can stay here,” she admits. “My momma got three jobs and barely sleeps so that she can barely pay the rent let alone my tuition. I _need_ this. I need college. I can’t end up like her.”

 

Santana nods quickly and lets her hands fall to Aphasia’s hips, squeezing them comfortingly. “I know,” she nods. “I get it. But I don’t think she’d do this. There’s stuff you don’t know about her, okay—there’s stuff she doesn’t tell people—”

 

“How do you know that she’s telling the truth?”

 

Santana whimpers and shrugs her shoulders.

 

“Because she’s stuck too.”

 

//

 

“Before you ask, it wasn’t me,” is the first thing that Brittany says to her when they meet at the look out point later that evening. “She asked me but I didn’t say anything, Santana. I swear to god, I didn’t say anything.”

 

“I know,” Santana asks as she wraps her arms around her. “I know.”

 

Brittany looks at her for barely a second before pressing their lips together.

 

“Thank you,” she sighs. “How’s Aphasia?”

 

Santana scoffs. “Terrified,” she shrugs. “Angry.”

 

Brittany’s lips purse together. “Does she think it was me?” Santana nods quickly. “Did you tell her that—”

 

“Yeah,” she nods. “Even though she tried to convince me that you’re playing me too.”

 

Something crosses over Brittany’s face. Santana stares at her before she shakes her head quickly, sadly. She swallows anxiously before grabbing Santana’s hand.

 

“I’ll get to the bottom of this,” Brittany whispers.

 

Santana doesn’t do anything in response so Brittany presses their noses together.

 

“I promise,” Brittany whispers, kissing her quickly. “I promise.”

 

Santana tries not to believe her but can’t help it.

 

//

 

The random room searches start in Haverbrook and Brittany tells Santana and Aphasia that they got a tip off that weed was being dealt from there.

 

“It’s just a bit of weed,” Aphasia says after she’s thrown a mug at the wall. “I don’t fucking get what the problem is. It’s not hurting anyone.”

 

Brittany folds her arms and leans against their door. “It’s not the weed. There was a party in Carmel on New Year’s Eve and apparently a few people dropped some E and ended up in the ER because it was full of loads of other shit. The police came and questioned my mom and they’re forcing her to find whoever dealt it because the girls said they got it from a student.”

 

Aphasia sighs. “Bullshit.”

 

Brittany nods. “That’s what I thought. As far as I know, you’re the only student who has a supply so they’ve probably just said anything to not get in trouble.”

 

“But all she has is top quality MJ,” Santana scoffs. “How can she get in trouble for that?”

 

Aphasia sighs. “Don’t be stupid, Santana.”

 

Santana looks to Brittany. “What?”

 

“It won’t matter to them,” Brittany tells her. “They’ll see weed and assume that she did it. It doesn’t matter what drugs she’s found with.”

 

Santana shrugs her shoulders.

 

“Then what the hell do we do?”

 

//

 

The searches stretch from Haverbrook to Dalton and Westvale a day or two later and Brittany tells them that one of her friends on the campus police told her that they didn’t find anything.

 

“I doubt they’ll find anything anywhere,” she goes on. “They’ll probably give up after this and assume that whoever’s dealing got rid of their stash.”

 

“But Aphasia needs this,” Santana reminds her. “She can’t give it up or she won’t be able to stay.”

 

Brittany nods. “I know,” she whispers, kissing her forehead. “I know.”

 

//

 

Someone in Westvale mentions that they saw someone at a party in Ryerson dealing drugs and they extend the search to there. Aphasia stops going to class in favor of panicking just in case anything happens.

 

Nothing that Santana says calms her down and in private she’s still adamant that Brittany is leaking information to her mom.

 

“Think about it,” she hisses after Brittany’s left one evening. “The opposite of everything she says happens and they’re fucking starting to close in.”

 

“That’s ridiculous, Aphasia,” she whispers. “Why would they search everywhere else if they knew you were here?”

 

Aphasia scoffs and shakes her head. “Because otherwise everyone would know what she is. A fucking snitch.”

 

Santana doesn’t do anything but shake her head and get on with her homework.

 

Aphasia laughs bitterly.

 

“You know what?” she says. “You two are perfect for each other.”

 

//

 

Aphasia avoids her after that.

 

After Ryerson, they search McKinley and Sylvester in quick succession. Hudson comes next and Santana feels more and more sick the longer it takes for them to finally come to Adler.

 

She’s scared and her best friend isn’t talking to her and the more and more Brittany tells her that everything is going to be okay, the less that she believes her.

 

“Hudson is full of older students,” Brittany says when they’re smoking at the lookout. “If they’re looking there then they must have no reason to come to Carmel or Adler. It’ll be fine.”

 

“Will you _stop_ saying that?” she bites, accidentally dropping her cigarette and almost setting herself on fire. She pats it out frantically and groans in frustration.

 

Brittany watches her in concern. “San—”

 

“Everything is _not_ fine,” she continues. “Aphasia’s probably going to get kicked out soon and she isn’t talking to me because she thinks I’m some sort of fucking Judas for believing what you’re saying. And I want to fucking believe you, Britt but it gets harder and harder the closer and closer they get to her.” She shakes her head and turns away from her in angry frustration. “And you don’t fucking get it, okay? She needs this and I think I need her because she’s the first person in a long fucking time who just took me for what I am, no questions asked. And I know you say that you wouldn’t nark on us to your mom but at the end of the day she’s your mom and you have way more loyalty to her than to some girl you’re fucking and her ghetto best friend. I just wish you’d be fucking honest and TELL me instead of stringing me along like an idiot!”

 

Her words echo out over the lake and some birds overhead fly away at the noise it makes. Santana pants for breath and Brittany doesn’t speak for a long time. She doesn’t speak until Santana turns back and looks at her.

 

When she does, she drops her cigarette to stub it out with her boots before shrugging her shoulders.

 

“I thought you were different,” she whispers tearfully and when she starts walking away, Santana doesn’t stop her.

 

//

 

They don’t search any of the dorms over the weekend and by Monday everyone’s breathing a little easier. Aphasia’s still not talking to her but Brittany isn’t either so Santana pretty much spent the whole of the weekend moping.

 

She feels guilty and sad and just really, really angry.

 

She’s in the café eating lunch on Tuesday when Quinn and Tina rush in and grab her by the arm, dragging her out.

 

“Where’s Aphasia?” they ask quietly and Santana quickly notices that they’re dragging her towards Adler.

 

Santana frowns. “She had an econ test.”

 

Quinn and Tina force her between the chapel and Griffith Hall, taking the shortcut to the Math department.

 

“They searched Carmel this morning,” Quinn whispers. “And word is that they’re searching Adler this afternoon. We need to find Aphasia. You need to text her and get her out of class.”

 

Santana grabs her phone and quickly does as she’s told as they head towards the elevator.

 

“Second floor,” she pants when they get inside, running after them when the doors opens, and relieved to find Aphasia running back towards them.

 

“What are we going to do?” she asks desperately.

 

Santana shrugs her shoulders and shakes her head.

 

“I don’t know,” she breathes. “I don’t fucking know.”

 

//

 

There’s a small crowd gathered in the foyer of Adler when they arrive and they all slow as they see Sugar and Mercedes heading towards them.

 

“They’re already up there,” Mercedes hisses. “It’s too late.”

 

//

 

Santana follows Aphasia up to the forth floor, their footsteps considerably slower now that they know it’s too late.

 

Their bedroom door is open and there’s a campus police officer stood outside. Santana steps ahead of Aphasia to peer inside and finds three more officers rooting around their stuff.

 

She’s about to say something when one lifts up Aphasia’s mattress and feels underneath. Her words die in her throat and she holds her breath waiting for the moment. She peers back at Aphasia with wide eyes and finds leaning against the wall with her head tilted back in defeat.

 

She watches her in silence and is so busy wondering what the hell they’re going to do that she almost misses what the officers call out from inside.

 

“All clear,” the officer says and they all slowly start to walk past Santana and towards the elevator.

 

One sighs in annoyance. “Fucking kids,” he says. “Probably playing pranks again.”

 

Santana’s face drops and she shakes her head at Aphasia as she goes to speak. The officers leave and neither of them says anything. They don’t speak until the other girls arrive in the elevator and look at them in confusion.

 

It’s Santana that explains.

 

“They didn’t find anything.”

 

//

 

Everything is gone. Aphasia’s entire supply is gone and when she sees that doesn’t care very much.

 

Santana searches everywhere and questions all the other girls but they all shakes their head in confusion and tell her that their rooms were searched first, just for that reason.

 

“I don’t get it,” Aphasia says.

 

Santana doesn’t either.

 

//

 

Two days later, a girl in Carmel is arrested when campus police get a tip-off that she’s the one dealing the bad E. They find five hundred pills that match the make up of the ones the girls in hospital took and, when questioned, police discover that those girls and four others were in on it too.

 

Aphasia soon finds out that one of those girls told the campus police that she was the one dealing drugs.

 

Santana hears and suddenly begins to miss Brittany.

 

She misses her smile and her laugh and the way that she looks at her. She misses her turning up at her room at any given moment with food and a movie. She misses falling asleep beside her and she really, really misses talking to her.

 

She also feels guilty for not trusting her.

 

And it’s when she realizes that she should have trusted her that she realizes something else. Her brow furrows and Aphasia looks at her in confusion as she spins her ID card in her fingers before staring at it curiously.

 

“What?” she asks dubiously.

 

Santana doesn’t speak at first; she just grabs her coat and shoes.

 

“Lopez?!”

 

Santana just grins.

 

“I know who has the weed.”

 

//

 

She doesn’t know how she knows that she’ll be here, but she sits there and waits anyway.

 

It doesn’t take long. Brittany appears there an hour later, snuggled up in her hat, scarf and coat, rolling a joint between her fingers as she carries a book under her arm.

 

“Hi,” Santana says before Brittany walks straight into her. “I see you finally got some of that weed.”

 

Blue eyes quickly dart up to hers and darken. It makes Santana feel about an inch tall. She swallows thickly before words bubble from her.

 

“I’m sorry,” she whimpers. “I’m sorry that I didn’t trust you and I’m sorry that I yelled all those things. I didn’t mean them.”

 

Brittany shrugs and squeezes past her until she can sit down on the floor and lean against the wall.

 

“But you said them anyway,” she shrugs sadly.

 

Santana nods. “I know. I know I did but I was scared and worried and I just—” She trails off and shrugs her shoulders. “My whole life has just been one disappointment after another, one person after another being completely different to how I expected them to be and I couldn’t see that you were different. I wanted to hurt you before you could hurt me because—because I don’t think I could handle that. Not from you. Not when you’re so—” She laughs bitterly. “You’re perfect and you’re way too good for me. You can do way, way better than me.”

 

Brittany doesn’t speak for a long time before she puts the joint between the pages of the book. She sets it down gently before getting up. She rubs her nose with the back of her wrist and sighs.

 

It takes Santana way too long to realize that she’s crying.

 

“Santana, you don’t get it,” she whispers brokenly. “You’re not the only one who’s scared.” She looks up at her and sighs. “I know I have this reputation and sure, maybe I took advantage of the fact that a lot of girls wanted me but I’ve never felt like this before,” she breathes. “I’ve never felt like this before and it’s scary and hard and I don’t want anyone else.” She shrugs hopelessly. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I saw you at convocation and I don’t think I will.”

 

She takes Santana’s hand and pulls her closer.

 

“I used—I used to really hate being here,” Brittany admits quietly. “I wanted to be anywhere else but since you’ve been here, it’s been worth it, you know? You make me want to be here. You make me love this place and I just—You’re not just some girl I’m fucking. Why would you think that? You’re not just some girl.”

 

She looks up and shakes her head.

 

“I think I’ve fallen in love with—”

 

She doesn’t get a chance to speak because Santana’s kissing her. Her hands find blonde hair and she whimpers into her mouth and she’s pretty sure she knows what Brittany was about to say but she doesn’t think she can listen, just in case. She doesn’t know what she’ll do if Brittany’s actually fallen in love with the way the sun glitters through the trees or something equally as heartbreaking. She kisses her hoping that Brittany might forget all the words in the dictionary but Brittany’s a genius and she peels her away with a surprised whimper and a laugh.

 

“Don’t do that,” she whispers, tilting their heads together. “I hate it when you do that.”

 

Santana shakes with worry. “But you don’t need to say anything,” she shakes her head. “We can just sit here for a while or we could go get dinner or we could—”

 

“Santana,” Brittany cuts through her. Santana looks up to find blue eyes watching her fondly. “I’m trying to tell you that I love you, so can you _please_ just let me for once?”

 

Santana’s heart beats wildly in her chest and her breath catches. She nods quickly because she finds she can’t speak.

 

Brittany cups her cheeks and leans in to kiss her slowly. She gives her that look that she always gives her, the one that Santana’s missed… the one that makes her feel like she’s the best thing in the entire world.

 

“Santana,” she sighs, thumbs sweeping over her cheeks. “I’ve fallen in love with you. Is that okay?”

 

Santana nods quickly and feels ridiculous for the tears running down her cheeks.

 

“Yes,” she whispers eventually. “Yes it is.”

 

Brittany giggles. “Good. I’m glad.”

 

Santana kisses her again because she doesn’t know what to say and doesn’t stop until she’s breathless and she can no longer feel the cold. Brittany draws back with another giggle and shakes her head with such complete love and fondness that Santana almost doesn’t know what to do. Her words are stuck in her throat.

 

“Santana,” Brittany says, bringing her attention back. She strokes over Santana’s bottom lip. “I’m not going anywhere and I’m not going to hurt you.”

 

Santana nods. “You promise?”

 

Brittany kisses her. “I promise.”

 

“Okay then,” she whispers and swallows deeply. “Then I love—”

 

She doesn’t get to finish.

 

Brittany’s already kissing her.

 

  
 


End file.
